Exeunt
by Brunette
Summary: [A three-part follow-up to And Love Thee After.] "Truth be told, he was surprised he'd survived so long."
1. underestimated

_**Author's Note. **So this was originally the epilogue for _And Love Thee After_, but I changed my mind about including it in the story, because I feel like it doesn't offer a very satisfying conculsion - or much of a conclusion at all. It kind of takes the conclusion of the story, and twists it, and then leaves everything hanging, and I didn't like that. But I _did_ like the scene itself. It was basically the precursor to every scene between Beni and Lord Carnahan in _Amour Fou_, and kind of set the standard for how I wanted them to relate to each other. So I held onto it, thinking I might have a reason to use it someday. At last, I do! This is just a little three-part follow-up, not meant to labor any points or anything. Just tie up a few loose ends, and to give some satisfactory closure to the Beni/Evy relationship that's been going through the whole series. _

_I was going to wait til _Amour Fou_ was finished to post it, but, at the risk of tooting my own horn, the next chapter of _It Ain't Me, Babe_ is freaking SOLID, and this has to go up before it can. Also, you're all about to think I'm a cocaine addict, because today I'm finally posting like a zillion things that have been written and waiting to be posted._

_Just to be helpful, here's everything in chronological order:_

**_Amour Fou  
It Ain't Me, Babe (Ch. 1)  
And Love Thee After  
Exeunt  
It Ain't Me, Babe (Ch. 2-5)_**

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and _The Mummy Returns_ are the property of Universal Studios._

* * *

**EXEUNT**

* * *

_Alexandria Prison: Alexandria, Egypt, 1926_

**underestimated.**

Lord Carnahan heaved a sigh, his joints popping as he took a seat and waited for the prisoner to be brought out. He folded his wrinkled hands on the table that seperated him from an empty chair, and tried to remove the grimace from his face at the smell. It was an especially hot day that afternoon, and being inside the close, cramped prison made the heat even worse. Such a place felt like hell, he imagined, and he found himself satisfied that the man he was visiting had been abandoned to such a fate.

Truth be told, he was surprised he'd survived so long. When he'd been told his son-in-law had been sentenced to spend the rest of his life in the very prison that housed around 35 Egyptian rebels, he'd figured the sentence would be a short one in deed. He'd expected to hear in a matter of days that he'd been murdered - beaten to death or stabbed or some other grisly end. But the weeks had passed into months, and the man lived.

Lord Carnahan had underestimated him.

The door across from him opened up, and the man was led to his seat. His wrists were handcuffed in front of him, and somehow, he managed to be even more gaunt than Nigel remembered. He had an ugly scar running down the side of his face, all around the back of his neck, and he wore a black patch over his right eye. When he met his eyes, he grinned, and two of his top teeth were missing. He smelled intensely of sweat and vaguely of blood, and his visitor couldn't help leaning back in his chair a little at the stench.

"Nigel," he sneered. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Lord Carnahan's throat jerked a little. "I think you know, Mr. Gabor."

Beni laughed, leaning his chair back until it creaked. "It's Mr. Gabor now?"

"Well it's certainly not lieutenant."

His smile faded, but he quickly resumed his sarcastic demeanor. "Is this how we treat family?"

Nigel scoffed. He took a breath and met Beni's eyes evenly. "You know why I'm here."

"What, you got tired of sending me letters?"

Nigel let out a long sigh, leaning forward a little. "Listen, you dirty little blackgaurd, we're perfectly content to let you rot in here forever, divorce or no divorce. Evelyn and Rick don't care a bit about it."

Beni's face broke into an ugly smirk. "But _you_ do."

Nigel looked down, trying to sort out his thoughts. Beni kept grinning at him.

"What brings you all the way up here? From what I hear, Evelyn and O'Connell have been living in sin for months."

Lord Carnahan glanced around, as if nervous that prying ears might hear. "Evelyn's with child," he finally said quietly.

Beni chuckled. "So? Married women get knocked up all the time."

His father-in-law sucked in a quick breath, and the look on his face said Beni was severely trying his patience.

"Yes," he said evenly. "And being married, the child would have your name. And we'd all like to sever that connection, if possible."

Beni actually laughed aloud, incredibly amused over the thought of Rick O'Connell's child going through life with his name. When he finally quieted his chortles, he met the other man's eyes.

"Now what kind of father would I be, abandoning my wife when she's about to have a baby?"

Lord Carnahan was not so amused.

"They don't know I came here, you know. They're perfectly content to have a bastard child and play house til they're old and gray, but I can't possibly afford to have my daughter living in such a scandal. _Particularly_ after the monumental mess_ you_ caused here in Alexandria. Now stop being an ass and reason with me like a man. What would it take for you to give her the divorce?"

Beni straightened in his chair, his father-in-law's impatient words apparently making their desired impact. His face became serious, and he looked him in the eye.

"I want out of here," he said. "And I want £100,000."

Nigel scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't afford that."

"Of course you can," Beni returned, his voice perfectly serious now. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't know you could."

Lord Carnahan sighed. "I figured you'd want out of jail. That alone was a costly affair, I promise you."

"That isn't my problem," Beni said.

His father-in-law glared at him steadily, but Beni was unmoved. A moment passed in silence before Nigel finally breathed a sigh of defeat and pulled his checkbook from his vest pocket.

"Very well. But you'll sign the papers right now."

Beni lifted up a finger, and when he did, Lord Carnahan saw that he was missing two digits on his left hand. "I'll sign them when they uncuff me."

Nigel turned and looked at the window near the door through which he had come. He waved his hand, and a guard came in through the door. His face was set with disgust as he watched the guard unlock the cuffs and hand Beni a set of papers stating his release. Nigel reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of neatly-folded papers and a pen, passing them over to Beni.

"You know, politically, you were one of the worst choices I could have made."

Beni scoffed. "Just write the check."


	2. pathetic

_Author's Note:_**_ I wrote the following before I decided to do _It Ain't Me, Babe_, so that kind of voids the need for it. Just the same, I thought it was helpful, and decided to keep it:_**

_This is something of a spoiler for this chapter, but I wanted to clarify a timeline because I feel like it's sort of confusing. So you can return to this after the chapter if you prefer. Oliver was killed when Jemima was "eight months pregnant," "six months" before the New Year's Eve party of 1925. So Lionel was born in July/August of 1924 and was between 5 and 6 months old in January of 1925 (because he "came early...due to the shock of the bombing"). Jemima became pregnant with Benjamin in April of 1925 when Lionel was 8 or 9 months old; he was born "on time" (by the estimation based on her lie that he's Daniels' son), but actually late (probably a 42-weeker, as women often used to do before modern inductions), on Christmas of 1925. Because he was late, and babies gain about half a pound a week in the last part of the third trimester, he was almost ten pounds, which is a hint at the fact that he was conceived earlier. Elisabeth was conceived "less than two months later," which means she and Benjamin are "Irish twins," an event that was common in the '20's on up until the '80's, due to the advent and popularity of formula (because breastfeeding actually prevents ovulation for at least the first few months). She was probably conceived in February of 1926, and born in October of 1926, which is about the time this story is taking place. Therefore, Lionel is almost two and a half years old; Benjamin is 11 months; and Elisabeth is probably only a few weeks, a month old at the most._

_You're welcome._

_Disclaimer:__ The characters of The Mummy and The Mummy Returns are the property of Universal Studios._

* * *

**EXEUNT**

* * *

_Sinjin's Cafe: Alexandria, Egypt: 1926_

**pathetic.**

He saw her there, across the vacant restaurant. He saw her in her clean, pink dress - a slight breeze whispering in from the open windows and rustling the skirt against her knees in their delicate white netted stockings. She had a matching pink cloche hat pulled over her hair - a brighter shade of gold than he remembered. She lifted a cup of coffee to her lips with her lace-gloved hands, and twittered at the baby next to her.

She wasn't alone.

She sat at the table with a brood: a toddler with golden curls like hers, kept a little too long for a boy, and a chubby baby with big blue eyes flopping in a high chair. And next to her sat a black maid, rocking and humming to a little bundle in a pink blanket. She smiled at the bundle and pulled the blanket away from a tiny, round sleeping face. She touched the soft cheek and mumbled something sweet.

He smirked. There she was, so fresh and airy and careless as always. Remarkably thin for a woman who'd apparently given birth to three children in a little over two years, but she had nothing else to trouble herself with. She didn't have to busy herself with her children. That's what the black maid was for. And so she sat there, clean and meticulously put-together as ever, because she had the time. She had all the time in the world.

He hadn't expected to see her ever again, and he certainly hadn't hobbled into this restaurant between mealtimes in the hopes of catching her. But here she was, probably using the hour to her advantage because busy restaurants didn't appreciate so many babies. Here she was, and he'd take his opportunities as they came. His hand tightened on the head of his cane, and he started his careful way towards them.

His body was a mess. The rebels had done more than enough damage, content with the notion of using him as an ever-present punching bag rather than offing him in one fell swoop. He'd never been so merciful to any of them or their brothers; the hangman's noose scared no one after a few days spent under his interrogation, and they'd taken the lesson astutely. They promised him no relief from torment. He didn't deserve death, as far as they were concerned. He deserved hell, every single day. Every single night. He deserved hell.

Beni let out a quiet, bitter laugh. The joke was on them. He was a free man now. A free, wealthy man. And they should have killed him. They should have known Beni Gabor had endured as bad or worse at the hands of many people before them. Enduring was nothing at all. Not with the hope of blackmail looming over his head for those months and months of Lord Carnahan's threatening letters.

He wore a new suit and leaned on an ivory-headed cane. He'd washed and washed the stink of prison from his skin, and he might have even smelled good. He wore gloves with stuffed fingers to hide the ones that were missing. But he couldn't hide the terrible scar on his face. And regrettably, that doctor wasn't finished with his glass eye yet, so he had to wear a patch. He'd had his missing front teeth replaced with gold ones, at least until white enamel ones could be made. Maybe he wouldn't take the enamel ones. He found something decadent and amusing about using gold to chew his food.

The cane struck the floor and rang with each hobbled step. The toddler - Lionel, though he barely looked like the baby she would occasionally bring into her room while he lazed with a cigarette - had already noticed him, and was staring with wide, quizzical eyes. He imagined she frowned at the boy curiously before she turned and looked over her shoulder, and saw him.

Her cup was raised to her mouth, but she slowly put it down on the saucer. She pretended to look nonchalant, but her fingers drummed on the table nervously, and he saw the color leave her lips, even beneath the last flakes of her lipstick. She stared at him.

"Oh, dear," she whispered. Her time in the American West hadn't diminished her prim accent. She straightened her shoulders and looked up at him with half-lidded eyes as he came to stand just there in front of her.

"Hello, Jemima," he said.

The corner of her mouth twitched. "Hello."

A waiter suddenly appeared at the table with a pot of coffee and refilled her cup. He glanced up at Beni a few times, obviously trying to avoid staring at his ruined face.

"Can I get you a table, sir?"

"No," he said pointedly. "I will be sitting here."

Jemima started to protest, but he dropped into the empty seat next to Lionel. The maid eyed Jemima nervously, and scooted her chair just a little bit closer. She reached a hand and pulled the baby's high chair closer to her as well, away from Beni. He frowned, but the waiter distracted him.

"Can I get you anything?"

"I want a Turkish coffee," he said.

The waiter shifted his weight nervously. "I'm afraid we don't do Turkish coffee, sir. I can get you drip, or a French press, if you like - "

Beni groaned. "Whatever. I will have what she has. With whiskey."

The waitor nodded his head and hurried off. Jemima let out a shaking sigh and took a sip of her coffee.

"You want I can take the babies out in the pram," the maid said, her dark eyes staring steadily at Jemima. She started to nod her head, but Beni held up his hands.

"Oh, do not do that on account of me!" he said with a forced congeniality that felt strangely threatening.

Jemima ran her tongue over her lips.

"Make things a little more private," the maid added quietly.

"It is too hot outside for babies," Beni told her with a pointed glare. She quickly looked down. He turned his attention to Jemima, and smirked. "Lionel has gotten big."

"Yes," she said. "I'm afraid that's what they do."

She watched him, anxiously running her finger over the rim of her cup as he turned and stared curiously at the baby in the high chair. The baby stared back at him, his brow knitting up in interest when Beni smiled and revealed his gold teeth. Jemima cleared her throat, but he ignored her and reached a hand across the table, and the baby gripped onto his finger with his chubby hand. He murmured something sing-songy that, had Jemima known Hungarian, she would have recognized as,_ "Look at you. How has she ever hid you?"_ but sounded instead like any other cheerful squawking one does at a baby.

She sucked in a breath. "That's Benji."

Beni raised his eyebrows, and Benji pulled his gloved finger up to his mouth. He started to gum at the leather tip of the glove, but the maid suddenly swatted his hand away. Beni glared at her.

"Shouldn't let him chew on your hand, sir," she said. "Liable to make him sick. And it's a bad habit, anyways. Chewin' on folks's fingers."

Jemima gave her maid a tight-lipped smile. "It's alright, Edie."

The maid raised her eyebrows, and reached into the pocket of her skirt for a rag. She handed it to Benji, and he chewed at it contentedly.

"He's cuttin' that other tooth."

Beni watched him in something like fascination, studying his little nose and ears and wide, round eyes. "How old is he?"

"He'll be a year on Christmas Day," Jemima said.

Beni turned and looked at her with his one, smug eye. "A Christmas baby. And how early did he come?"

Her eyes narrowed. "He came just on time." She glanced at the baby and sighed. "He was very big, though. Almost ten pounds."

They were both painfully aware of the suspicious way Edie was glancing between them. Jemima bit her lip, her body stiffening when Beni reached and touched the baby again.

"Why don't you take the babies outside, Edie," she said suddenly. Beni turned and frowned at her, and Jemima met his eyes with cool evenness.

"Who's that?" Beni asked, pointing a finger at the sleeping baby in Edie's arms. The maid's brow furrowed, and she quickly settled the baby in the pram, away from his sight.

"That's Betsy," Jemima said, forcing a fake and hollow giggle. "After two boys, I finally got a girl. I think she was my reward for delivering a ten pound baby and then promptly getting pregnant again less than two months later. I tell you, I cried like a fool over it when I found out; Edie can tell you. And I said, 'By God, if it's another boy, I'll simply _die'_ - "

"Benji and Betsy," Beni said with a smirk.

"Well," she retorted with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Benjamin and Elisabeth."

Edie snatched Benji out of his high chair and settled him in the pram with his sister. She wasted no time pulling it around to the other side of the table where Lionel sat. Her mouth set in a grim frown as Beni peered in at the babies, and she maneuvered herself to obstruct his view.

"Come on, babies," she said. "We goin' to see the fountain over on the other side 'a the street." She took Lionel by the hand and tugged him quickly out of the chair, and practically dragged him out of the restaurant. Beni waited until the door rattled shut behind them. He gave Jemima an ugly smirk.

"Benjamin. Is that what you think my name is?"

Jemima shifted her weight stiffly. "He was named after my uncle, actually. Benjamin Hartley Daniels."

"Bullshit," Beni scoffed.

She blinked and stared back at him with a desperate look in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but the waiter returned with Beni's coffee and set it down in front of him.

"Sorry for the wait, sir," he said hurriedly.

Beni ignored him and took a sip. Jemima watched the waiter scurry off, and let out a hopeless sigh.

"I heard you were dead," she said quietly.

Beni's face spread in an ugly sneer, and his gold teeth glittered. She looked away from him.

"You heard wrong," he said.

"Evidently."

Jemima kept chewing on her bottom lip and tapping her fingers on the table. She seemed to be making a conscious effort not to look at him. But he stared at her, unable to wipe the amusement from his face.

"Why are you in Egypt?" he asked. "I thought you were an American now."

She swallowed. "I wanted my family to see Betsy. They can't afford to travel, you know..." She sighed and hid some of her nerves in a sip of coffee. "It was overdue, really. They hadn't gotten a chance to meet Benjamin yet, either."

"I thought your family was in Cairo."

"No," she said distractedly. "Alexandria. I'm sure I told you."

"Well, I don't remember."

A quiet fell between them, and he drank more of his coffee.

"Is it true?" she whispered, glancing up at him anxiously a few times before at last allowing her gaze to settle on him. "Is it true about General Bay killing his wife and himself?"

Beni snorted. "Have you seen General Bay around? Of course it is true he killed himself and his wife."

"But did you...was it your fault?" she took a breath and glanced about the restaurant before returning her gaze to him again. "Was it your fault like everyone says?"

His jaw tightened for a moment, and he told her pointedly, "I did not make anyone do anything."

Jemima let out a heavy sigh and glanced at the window. She could feel his eyes hungrily studying her face, but she pretended to ignore him. She squinted through the sunlight and watched Edie wheeling the pram, and Lionel toddling along beside the fountain. She smiled faintly, but only for a moment. Only for a moment before he reminded her he was still there sitting with her, eyeing her like a starving man.

"Come into the bathroom with me," he said.

Her lip wrinkled in disgust, and she turned and glared at him, at his scarred face and one eye and gold teeth. He hadn't been a handsome man before, but now he was almost hard to look at. _"No."_

"Why not?"

Her eyes widened. "Because I'm married, that's why. And you're a despicable human being - "

Beni pretended to be insulted, and said with an exaggerated, pathetic look on his face. "Despicable? Is that what you think of the father of your child, who gave you one of your life's greatest joys - "

"Whom, _as I recall_, you suggested I 'get rid of,'" she cut in coldly.

"You told me you were going to forget that," he retorted. "Besides, we both know the only reason you had him was to trap that stupid rich American into marrying you."

Jemima's eyes narrowed, and her hand tightened on her cup. "That is _not_ the only reason I had him - "

"Tell me," Beni interrupted with a smug, cruel sneer that made his ugly face unbearable. "Is Mr. Daniels proud? Is he just _so_ proud of his boy?"

Her eyes quickly fled to her coffee, and she flinched. She felt the mean satisfaction in his gaze against her face.

"I bet he is," Beni said. "I bet he just searches and searches that baby's face for some trace of himself, doesn't he?"

Jemima pressed her lips tightly together, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

"How do you even stand how pathetic it is?" Beni jeered.

Her gaze flashed up to his. "Stop it."

Beni leaned back in his seat, a dark grin on his face. "You will tell him someday. You will have some big argument, and you will be so mad, and you will have listened to him pathetically hoping for something of himself in the boy for years, and you'll tell him."

Her jaw tightened for a moment, and her glare hardened. "I will not. He is a good man and Benji doesn't deserve to be abandoned like that...even if I do. It isn't his fault he has you for a father."

Beni smirked superiorly. "No. That is all _your_ fault. You were more than eager to open your legs up for me."

Jemima's fingers flexed into fists and out of fists. "You took advantage of me at a difficult point in my life - "

"Oh, come_ on,_ Jemima. You threw yourself at me. You could not pull your skirt up fast enough."

"Stop it."

He scoffed, eyeing her cruelly. "You probably still would."

Her eyes narrowed. "I would not. And I_ will_ not - "

"What are you worried about, Jemima?" he said with an ugly sneer. "Two of your children having the same father?"

She slammed her hands on the table and got up out of her seat. She tried to brush past him, but he grabbed her by the wrist. She wrenched her arm from his grip, but he got a hold of her again and held on tighter. At first she wondered why only three of his fingers dug into her skin.

"Because you do not have to worry over that," he said through clenched teeth, staring up at her with a haunted, cold expression in his only eye. "The rebels _more_ than took care of that."

Despite her disgusted frown, a flicker of pity lit up her odd eyes. She swallowed nervously, and glanced down at the table. The anger fell from her face like a veil, replaced by an empathetic pain.

"Oh, darling," she said quietly.

Beni squeezed her arm. Reluctantly, she looked at him, and the color left her face to look into his dreadfully grave eye. She was rigid in his grasp, and had to glance away from him, over to the window again. She shifted her weight, and for a moment she leaned back, like she was dizzy and might lose her balance.

"I need to sit down," she told him faintly.

He let go of her, and her feet faltered as she plopped into the chair that Lionel had previously occupied. She could feel his grim gaze on her, but all she could do was sit and cover her mouth, shaking her head in shock.

"Was it perfectly dreadful for you?" she asked, her voice muffled by her hand.

Beni scoffed and took a sip of coffee. "Do you really need to ask that?"

Jemima closed her eyes. She sucked back a little sob and told him fiercely, "You did this to yourself. You know you did. You can't make me feel bad for you..."

He leaned back in his chair and watched her with his sad, woeful expression. "You don't feel bad for me? Not at all?"

She rubbed her temples mechanically, refusing to look at him. "No..."

"Really?"

Jemima sucked back a little breath, her eyes wandering to the window again. He saw her mouth flinch painfully, and she let out a shaking sigh before turning to look at him squarely. Her eyes were glazed and sorrowful.

"Of course I feel bad for you," she said quietly. "Of course I do."

Beni sighed in a way that seemed very weary and hopeless. "Then you are not so cold after all."

Jemima frowned. "Cold? When was I ever cold to you?"

He gazed up at her with a pathetic expression on his face. "You hid my son from me. You did not even want me to touch him just now. You lied to me and got into bed with that American..."

"Darling, please," she said plaintively.

"And now," he continued in a voice so heavy and downtrodden that even in the midst of her guilt, she had to suspect was fake, "you will not even comfort me after all the pain I have suffered in prison..."

Jemima let out a sigh. "Beni, I'm married..."

_"All_ the pain I have _suffered,"_ he repeated, laboring the words even more, "at the hands of the people I was protecting you from - the people who bombed your house and ruined your eye and killed your husband - "

"Alright!" she cut in, a little too loudly. She glanced about the empty restaurant with a self-conscious air. "I'm sorry. That's dreadful for you, and I'm sorry. But surely you can understand that I don't want to cheat on my husband just to make you feel better. I'm not a prostitute - "

His eye widened, big and pitiable. It looked even more pathetic than ever, so lonely there next to the eyepatch. "That's what you will say to me? After all I have suffered? The father of your son?"

Jemima bit her lip, and took a breath to tell him something that, as it turned out, she just wasn't cruel enough to say to him - even if he _was_ doing his damndest to guilt her into sleeping with him. The words burned on her tongue, though, and later she wished she'd told him. _All three of my children have only had one man who's been a father to them, and that's David Daniels._

"The only son I will ever have," Beni added quietly, glancing at his gloved hands. "And he will never even know me..."

She stared at him, her brow knitting up in sympathy. She wanted to wring his neck for making her even consider the idea that she take an unfaithful step away from her husband: a man who, in spite of his shortcomings, loved Lionel just as much as Benji and Betsy. Who had never doubted her; never doubted her when she said Benjamin was his own - when she insisted that he was the spitting image of her uncle. It was a lie. All she'd ever seen of the boy was Beni. But David didn't even remember Beni. He didn't see the echoes of his features in Benjamin; didn't see his expressions or the color of his eyes. He'd believed her whole-heartedly when she'd asserted that she had_ never_ slept with Beni, when he asked her after that dinner party not nearly so long ago as it felt. He believed in the myth of Benjamin Hartley, and it broke her heart.

But so did Beni, stooped there next to her with his scarred face and his eye patch. A man not even forty grasping a cane and ruined against ever having a real family. Jemima didn't really think Beni would make a good family man, anyway. But she was deeply, deeply disturbed by the horrifying suggestions of what had surely happened to him in prison. If those rebels lacked heart enough to blow up a house occupied by women - one of them very pregnant - how much worse would they do to someone like him, whom they'd despised and feared? And even though she suspected that at least on a level, he'd gotten back what he'd dealt out...she had trouble subscribing to the notion when he sat there beside her, a destroyed shell of a man, missing parts of his body and himself he could never get back.

Her fingers flexed, and she reached a shaking hand over to his. Her stomach turned when she felt the padded fingers of the gloves, and she stared at him. He stared back.

The words itched on the tip of her tongue for quite some time, but at the moment she was not daring enough to speak them. She'd said cheaper, more tantalizing things to him before, but never in such a context as this. Never like this. Never with such a painful, conflicted heart, desperate to help him, but unwilling to help him the way he wanted. She didn't want to wedge another lie between her and David.

David Daniels was a good man. But Beni Gabor was a broken one.

And at last the words made their way out of her mouth, a quiet mumble she wasn't sure he heard, "What can I do for you, darling?"

He smirked. They both knew what he wanted, and a cold inkling twisted in her stomach as she stood up and walked slowly beside him as he limped along with his cane.

They slipped discretely together into the bathroom, and locked the door. Her heart thudded nervously in her chest.

"Can you still...?"

He nodded, and told her bitterly. "For now. Eventually I will not...but I will not even want to, either."

Jemima closed her eyes. "My God...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for that, Beni."

Her eyes stayed closed as he kissed her, as his hands found every place they were once welcomed. She kept her eyes closed. He was weak, but as demanding as ever. As urgent as ever. Maybe moreso. She held him and tried to fight back the distinct feeling of dread tingling inside her. She still liked him - more than she wanted to admit. She still liked him. But she loved her husband; she'd come to love him. And she didn't like doing this. Even if there was something...something not quite nice, but somehow pleasant, she supposed, about his nearness and his lips and his hands. Something she must have missed without even noticing til just now...

What if Beni was right? What if she did get into an argument with David someday, and that horrible, slimy truth slipped out in a burst of anger. _He's not even your son! And what's more, I made love to his father that time we went to Egypt after Betsy was born! The man was castrated and he had more balls than you do right now!_ What if he was right? What if she did? Could she keep a secret like this forever?

Her thoughts were briefly forgotten in a breathless haze...but then that was over. It was over. And they stood together in a bathroom; she stood with him in a pink dress, like she had the day she met him.

She looked at him and let him kiss her a final time, and she expected him to thank her, but he didn't. When she'd straightened out her dress and he'd buttoned his pants, they left just a little too close together. And Edie was back at the table with the children. She watched them leave together, and the color left Jemima's face. She couldn't look at Edie, and her hands shook nervously as she reached into her purse for bills. She told Beni she'd pay for his coffee, and he left.

He hobbled out of the restaurant and into the sunlight, and she had to stay there, ignoring the disgusted and watchful eyes of her maid; pretending to occupy herself with cooing bright, meaningless words at Betsy to make her smile. She couldn't quite look at Benji, who'd fallen asleep next to her in the pram. She swallowed hard and ignored Edie's dark eyes, and the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Within a day or two of returning to Texas, everyone would know. Edie would tell a handful of her friends, and they'd tell their friends, and then their employers would catch wind of it...and soon everyone, _everyone_ would know.

_Did you hear about David Daniels' English wife in Egypt? Did you hear?_

Everyone would know.

Not David, of course. The spouse was always the last to know, if he found out at all. But everyone, _everyone_ else. They'd whisper about it and gawk at her and stare at him sympathetically. And she'd be a ruin. She'd be an absolute ruin in that dusty town, with those new money ranchers and oil men.

_Look, all I know is her nursemaid swears she came out of a restaurant bathroom with this horrible little one-eyed man. And get this, honey - she says that little baby 'a theirs, Benjamin - they had more than a passin' resemblance._

He got to leave that bathroom. But she never would.


	3. defeated

_Disclaimer:__ The characters of The Mummy and The Mummy Returns are the property of Universal Studios._

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**EXEUNT**

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_The O'Connell Home: Cairo, Egypt: 1926_

**defeated.**

Evelyn O'Connell wasn't expecting any guests when her doorbell rang.

She'd been sitting there in the parlor with the drapes pulled back, her feet propped up on the coffee table because her ankles were in the nasty habit of swelling at this point in her pregnancy. Her belly was threatening the give of her dropped waist frock, but she'd figured she was home alone, and anyway, she wasn't ashamed of it. She hadn't been before, but now she had a ring and Rick O'Connell's name, and no one could ever _try_ shame her over it again.

With a sigh, she swung her bare feet off of the table and heaved herself out of the chair. The small of her back ached a little as she crossed the room to the foyer and, somewhat thoughtlessly, opened the door without glancing to see who was there.

If she had looked, she probably wouldn't have opened the door at all. Though later she realized it wouldn't have made a difference. Nothing was ever locked to a thief.

He looked so much worse than he had the last time she saw him, and the shock of his ruined face made her bite back a gasp.

"Evelyn!" he said with a kind of fake congeniality that made her shiver. "How pleasant to see you again, my dear."

Her mouth twitched, and her hand tightened on the door. "What do you want?"

He exaggerated a pout, staring at her with wide, pathetic eyes. "Is this the way you will greet your husband?"

"You're not my husband anymore."

He tsked her, trying to slip nonchalantly inside, but she took a step out from behind the door and blocked him where he stood. He glanced down at her belly with a dark sort of amusement.

"Well. Look at you."

Evelyn straightened her shoulders, staring down her nose at him in a manner she'd picked up from her father. "What do you want?" she asked again.

He finally glanced up from her belly with a snide smile. "I will take a vodka on the rocks, if you have it."

"That isn't what I meant," she said. "And I'm not letting you in here, either."

He let out a sigh and leaned against the doorframe. He looked at her with an expression that might have seemed earnest if she didn't know him better. "I only came here to apologize."

She raised her eyebrows incredulously. "Oh? Is that so?"

He nodded his head. "I am a changed man."

Evelyn held back a scoff. "I see."

"I have found our Lord and Savior."

She forced a smile that didn't quite cover her suspicion, and nodded her head. "Well. That's good. I'm very happy for you."

He heaved a sigh and glanced past her, into the foyer again. "I would like to speak with you for a moment."

Evelyn crossed her arms over her chest. "That's what we're doing right now."

"But it is so hot out here," he groaned. He looked her over with something like pity. "And you should not be on your feet in your condition."

She gnawed on her lip thoughtfully, and then shook her head. "I'll manage for a moment yet."

His mouth jerked with disdain, but he quickly hid the expression with his wide, desperate eyes. "I am embarrassed to ask. I am the one who cannot manage much longer."

He indicated the cane in his hand, and Evelyn let out a sigh. Her eyes were suspicious and hard, but after a moment she nodded her head and stepped aside. How much damage could he do with a cane, any -

Before she could even finish that thought, the door slammed shut behind him, and he cracked her hard across her legs. She let out a scream of pain, and tumbled to the floor. She had just enough time to turn herself to keep from landing on her belly. She sucked in a deep breath, her eyes darting about frantically until they collided with his mean, sneering face.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, frightened. She backpedaled on her hands and feet as he limped his way towards her.

He pointed an accusatory finger at her. "You! Your whole stupid family ruined everything for me!"

Her brow furrowed, perplexed. She shook her head in utter confusion. "Beni, I have no idea what you're talking about - "

"Marrying you was the worst mistake of my life!" he shouted. She didn't like the way his whole body twitched, or the way his hand kept flexing on the head of that cane. She ran her tongue over her lips, and looked up at him as calmly and plaintively as she could.

"It was a mistake for both of us," she said quickly. "So perhaps we should put it away from us and try to focus on being happy now - "

"Happy?" he said, mocking her with an unhinged laugh. "I will never be happy again. Do you know what happens to a man like me in prison?"

Her throat jerked nervously. "Beni..."

"You can go on with your life, but I am ruined! And it is all your father's fault."

Evelyn shook her head. Her voice trembled, "I-I really don't see what my father has to do with any of it..."

Beni's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You think I am so stupid."

"I don't!"

"I have you figured out. All of you."

Evelyn blinked hard, casting a plaintive glance at the door as if she could will Rick into walking through it. She had no idea what Beni was talking about, and she was starting to fear that he'd lost his mind entirely. Was he really so desperate for someone to blame? She turned back to him. She stared up at him as humbly as she could.

"Beni, I'm terribly sorry for whatever it is you think we've done - "

He scoffed. His hand flexed on the cane again. Her voice came faster.

"But if you're looking for retribution, this isn't the way to get it. I'm carrying a child. You might recall there was a time when I was carrying _your_ child - "

A mean, ugly smirk crept up the side of his face. "How very different your life would be if he had lived."

Evelyn swallowed uneasily. "Yes..."

His gaze hardened, bitter and malicious. "How very different_ my_ life would be."

He took a step towards her, and she backpedaled some more, her back bumping into the end table next to the couch. She heard a metallic rattle within its drawer, and bit back a gasp.

Beni was pointing at her again. "Your father would not have let me rot away in prison, being treated like less than shit, if you had still been pregnant."

Evelyn's arm shook as she reached up to the table top, pretending for a moment like she was going to use it to heave herself back up on her feet.

"It was a dreadfully unfortunate loss," she said.

Beni's mouth twisted in a smirk, but his gaze was narrow and incredulous. "Yes. Most 'unfortunate.'"

His hand curled around the cane, and he was starting to lift it. In a flash, Evelyn threw open the drawer and grappled for the pistol Rick had hidden away in there. Beni's eye widened in confusion and anger, and he started to hold up his hands in surrender. But his one hand was still grasped about the cane, and all Evelyn saw was him raising it again, and she fired.

He hit the floor with a thud, and Evelyn had to bite back a cry of surprise. The pistol slipped through her fingers and clattered on the floor beside her. Her hand was trembling almost too much to control, but she managed to shove the pistol and send it skidding across the floor.

Taking a deep breath, she turned her attention back to him, lying there motionless on the floor. She couldn't quite exhale, concentrating on his body in the dead stillness of the afternoon until she was certain she wasn't imagining faint, rasping breaths escaping his lips.

She let out a shaking sigh.

And then, even though she felt nauseatingly dizzy and her shins ached, she pulled herself to her feet. She stood there in the middle of the room, with him to her right and the gun to her left. She looked between both of them.

She started to notice a gurgling in each breath he labored for.

She looked at the gun again.

A nervous pain flooded her whole body, and she had to close her eyes and swallow hard to keep from getting sick. When at last she felt stable enough to open her eyes, she didn't let another thought pass through her mind.

She crossed the room, and rang an ambulance.

**end.**


End file.
